I have played pretty much every sport under the sun. From basketball to skeet shooting to lacrosse, I’ve tried it all. My parents raised me to be an athlete from birth, putting me in a pair of cleats straight out of the womb.

My brother is three years older than me, so naturally I was predisposed to being a tomboy. I grew up spending all of my Saturdays at his baseball games drooling over his teammates as a little girl does. I always wanted to be just like him, except I bit off a little more than I could chew. As soon as I could walk and had control of my limbs, I was signed up for basketball, gymnastics, softball, golf, soccer, cross country, dance, tennis, and the list goes on. The amount of gas my mom used to transport me to and from my multitude of practices and games has to be a leading contributor to global warming. It wasn’t until my freshman year of highschool though that I found the sport I was most passionate about- lacrosse.

I was also juggling track and tennis in the same season, and all of my alternates for center were injured senior year, so my body eventually just gave out on me. This photo was taken after one of the last games I ever played. Our team made it to the championship, but I was only two days post-op and still geeked out on pain meds, so I got to cheer from my bed (call me narcissistic but I’m convinced we would’ve won if I was there).

Coming to college and playing no sports has certainly been a readjustment. I’ve learned you can’t eat five meals a day and still stay skinny, but I love where I’m at and wouldn’t change a thing.